


When Memories Fade

by XILVerify



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers, Portal (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Amnesia, Brotherly Angst, Brotherly Love, Canon-Typical Violence, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Gen, Kidnapping, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Male/Male Relationships, Post-Portal 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:29:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25078417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XILVerify/pseuds/XILVerify
Summary: Matthew Williams-Jones wakes from cryogenic stasis with gaps in his memory, his twin MIA, and a murderous, science-obsessed computer cataloging his every move. He and his brother must use every scrap of cunning they possess if they have a chance of escaping this hellhole facility alive. Spoilers for the Portal 2 Co-Op storyline.(Originally posted July 1, 2013)
Relationships: America & Canada (Hetalia)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 21





	When Memories Fade

He floated, drowning in oblivion. The silent ocean enveloped him, cradling him in its dark, cold depths and shutting out all memory of light, of life, of self. Only nothingness remained.

A flicker. A tiny flame, wrapping around the edges of his consciousness and burning into the inky black. Slowly, the dark receded around him, and the light steadily grew brighter and brighter. Numbness was replaced with a dull, aching chill, and grew painfully colder by the second. A growing roar echoed around him, and the ocean began to churn. His world became a confused cacophony of sound and water and stabbing cold, and then he was falling, falling, falling…

His cheek struck something hard and unyielding, and a torrent of icy fluid crashed over his prone body a half-second later. A strangled, choking sound emerged from his mouth before his chest heaved and he vomited a shocking amount of the liquid, followed by coughing, more vomiting, and even more coughing. When at last his limp, trembling body had expelled all the liquid from inside it, he simply lay face down on the cold metal grating, exhausted and confused. 

Where was he? _Who_ was he? What in the world was going on? He tried prying his eyes open to get a look at his surroundings, but his body was sluggish and slow to respond to his commands. When he finally managed it, it took him a moment for his eyes to adjust to the bright light, and to register what he saw through the metal grate his face was pressed painfully up against. The things close to him were an indistinct blur, but he could see that further away, rows upon rows of humans in vats of bubbling liquid stretched into the distance. As he tried to wrap his mind around this, his head shifted slightly and a dribble of liquid trickled out his ear.

“-nominal activity. Preliminary scans on Subject 1 show a 45% chance of brain damage,” said a computerized female voice from somewhere all around him. “Name: Williams-Jones, Alfred. Age: 21 years. Height: 6’. Weight: 159 lbs. Preliminary scans on Subject 2 show a 61% chance of brain damage. Name: Williams-Jones, Matthew. Age: 21 years. Height: 6'. Weight: 154 lbs. Further information: pending. Oh, I’ve never tested a pair of fraternal twins before! This should be very interesting indeed.” He blinked sluggishly, uncomprehending, the words washing over him like waves over a rock, and someone groaned softly from behind him as the voice paused momentarily. Something about the groan made something stir deep in the recesses of his memory, something warm, familiar, and inexplicably painful.

“M-Mattie,” the other voice rasped.

_Alfred,_ his mind replied reflexively, a jolt of involuntary panic making his stomach churn uncomfortably. A rush of images assaulted his mind: wheat-gold hair, blue-sky eyes, reassuring white smile, _”Come on, Mattie, it’ll be fun!”_ white lab coats, confusion, panic, pain, _Alfred, where are you?_

_Matthew_ , he thought hazily as shadows lapped at the edges of his vision. _My name… is Matthew_. The dark ocean swallowed him up greedily, and he didn’t have the strength to fight it any longer.

* * *

Matthew opened his eyes and immediately regretted it. “Ow, ow, fricking _hell_ , ow!” he muttered viciously to himself, throwing up his arms to shield his sensitive eyes from the harsh light above him.

“Hello, and welcome to the Aperture Science Computer-Aided Enrichment Center,” an oddly familiar woman’s voice greeted him as he continued to mutter expletives under his breath. Matthew tentatively cracked open one eye, trying to place where he’d heard that voice before.

His indigo eyes shot open fully as he remembered. The growing pile of bills on the card table. His brother’s lingering, longing look whenever he caught sight of the framed, autographed picture of the space shuttle hanging on the kitchen wall. The way Arthur’s tired face lit up when they went to go visit their adoptive guardian in the hospital. Falling exhausted into bed at 4 A.M. after pulling double shifts at the construction site. Alfred barging into the house one day, face wreathed in genuine smiles for the first time in forever, waving a pamphlet with a circular logo emblazoned prominently at the top. This company was calling for volunteers to test out some new prototype inventions, he’d said. They even paid pretty good money to let you play with their toys, too, he’d added. 

What could Matthew say to that? They desperately needed the money, and the chance to see Alfred really having fun again… well, he’d agreed to it pretty quickly, all things considered. He’d patiently endured being poked and prodded by scientists during his physical and psych eval, Alfred close by the entire time, cracking jokes. And then… well. Apparently, the Aperture scientists interpreted “Why no, Doctor, I do not take being confined to small tanks filled with liquid very well; could I request that we be transferred to another area of testing?” as “Please drug me and my overprotective younger brother up and continue with your plans as usual, Doctor.”

“Due to unforeseen complications in your processing, you may be experiencing temporary to permanent brain damage,” the voice continued pleasantly as Matthew sat up on the padded slab he lay on, wincing as stiff joints and muscles protested the movement. “To determine the extent of the damage, please complete the following statement as quickly as possible: 2 multiplied by 6 equals…” Disregarding the question entirely, his eyes swept the small, stark white space he was imprisoned in, and almost immediately lit on a camera mounted on the corner of the ceiling.

“Where’s my brother?” he demanded, glaring into the lens. “Where’s Alfred? What have you done to him?”

“Subject 1,” the computerized voice responded, sounding vaguely bored, “is perfectly functional. Asking after you at this very moment, in fact. Although I suppose if you can both form coherent sentences, your brains aren’t totally worthless to me. Tell me, was he always this… vociferous?”

“Lady, you have no idea,” Matthew snorted, lips twisting into a small smirk despite himself. “I want to see him,” he continued, the glare returning.

“In due time,” the voice promised. “I suggest you don the provided testing apparel before you depart. From what I have observed, humans usually have an inexplicable aversion to being seen without clothing.” Matthew suddenly became very aware of the fact that he was, in fact, completely naked.

Trying to cover up with as much dignity as he could muster, he scanned the room and found a small pile of clothing on a raised platform beside a large, white panel. “Wait a minute…” he began, eyes narrowing as he continued to look at the orange jumpsuit. His gaze flicked back to the camera. “Did you say ‘testing’?”

“I was not aware that your hearing had been damaged as well.”

“Oh no. Oh _hells_ no,” Matthew protested, deliberately ignoring the implied jibe about his brain. “The deal’s off. I quit. I’m done, I’m going home, I am _never_ setting foot in this place again, and I _will_ sue you. You think you people can just drug me and Alfred up, stick us in suspended animation for God knows how long, then thaw us out and expect us to perform like your own personal dancing monkeys? I don’t think so.” A horrible thought occurred to him.

“Wait… how long _were_ we in there?” he asked, dread making his stomach knot itself into a ball.

“That information is classified,” she returned smoothly, sounding far more amused than anyone had the right to sound in this situation. “Now, if you’re done posturing, Subject 2, clothe yourself and retrieve the Aperture Science Handheld Portal Device. Your human brother is waiting for you in the first test chamber. Wouldn’t want to keep him waiting, now would you?”

As he glowered at the camera and seriously considered flipping it off, it occurred to Matthew that he really didn’t have a choice in the matter. He might as well comply so he could see Alfred again, at least. They could figure out something from there. Sighing in defeat, he walked over to the pile of clothing and almost tripped over something in his path. 

“Wha-?” he yelped in surprise, his arms pinwheeling frantically to keep him from falling over. When he regained his balance, he crouched down and picked up the… pair of boots? that he’d stumbled over. As he squinted at them, trying to make out the details, the voice spoke again.

“Oh. That’s right. Your file did say you were farsighted,” she sighed, sounding simultaneously put-upon and intrigued. “I took the liberty of making a pair of optical correction lenses for you so this won’t keep happening. As amusing as it is to watch you flail around like a brain damaged baby bird, it will get in the way of Science.”

“Well, we can’t have that, now can we?” Matthew muttered sarcastically, setting the odd boots down and reaching carefully for the blurred pair of glasses he could now see resting atop the small pile. He noticed there was an elastic band connecting the arms together, and when he slipped the glasses over his head, the band hugged his head snugly, keeping the glasses firmly on his nose.

“I made the frame and the glass for the lenses myself,” the voice commented when he was unable to contain a relieved sigh as the world came back into focus. When he declined to respond and busied himself with putting on the pair of underwear and tank top provided, she added, “I believe the appropriate response when someone makes you something is ‘thank you.’”

“Lady, you are keeping me here against my will,” Matthew replied, pulling on the orange jumpsuit. “I don’t owe you shit. Now,” he continued, sticking his feet into the boots and bouncing up and down on them slightly, surprised at how springy they were, “if you’d just let us leave, on the other hand, I’ll gladly bend down and kiss your feet if that’s what you want. If you even have them.”

“Tch. Humans. So ungrateful,” the voice sniffed. Matthew ignored it, picking up the odd gun-like device that had been placed behind his clothes and inspecting it curiously, noting the orange stripes painted on top of it that matched his jumpsuit.

“To operate the Aperture Science Handheld Portal Device, simply place your hand in the slot provided, grasp the handle firmly, and locate the switch with your thumb. Move the switch into the upright position to trigger your portal.”

Matthew glanced at the white panel, then back at the device, before carefully aiming the thing at it and flicking the switch up. A burst of red light shot out and collided with the panel, and expanded into a large, glowing ovular shape. Matthew gaped. For within the red-rimmed oval, instead of the plain white panel, he saw an entirely different room, white and grey panels lining the walls, and...

“Alfred!” he cried involuntarily. Throwing caution to the wind, he vaulted through the portal and sprinted for his brother, who had turned in surprise toward the sound of his voice.

“Matt!” Alfred wrapped his arms around the younger twin tightly as Matthew collided with him. “You’re okay, you’re okay, oh, thank God, you’re okay,” he murmured as they clung to each other, the only familiar thing they still had in a world that had been turned inside out and upside-down. “Wait… _are_ you okay?” Alfred said suddenly, pulling back and holding Matthew at arm’s length as if inspecting him for injuries. “She told me you might have brain damage.”

“I’m fine, Al,” Matthew hastened to assure him. “I had a bit of trouble remembering everything at first,” Okay some of the details were still a little fuzzy, but no need to worry Alfred at the moment, “but I’m fine now, as far as I can tell. Stop your mother-henning.”

“I am not mother-henning,” Alfred pouted, crossing his arms. “I’m checking up on you. There’s a difference.”

“Whatever you say, bro,” Matthew replied, rolling his eyes fondly. He abruptly noticed Alfred held a portal gun of his own in one hand. “You have one too?”

“Hm? Oh! Yeah, isn’t it cool?” Alfred exclaimed, brandishing the device with a huge grin. The arms of his blue jumpsuit had been knotted at the waist, exposing the white tank top he wore underneath, and he’d apparently been provided with a pair of boots and new set of glasses as well. 

“As fascinating as this touching display of human familial affection is,” the voice interrupted, echoing all around them. “There is testing to do. Solve the chambers, and you will receive a delicious cake as a reward for your generous contributions to science.” Both brothers stiffened simultaneously, and Matthew noticed the large red button on a pedestal, situated on an impossible to reach ledge. A trail of dots led from the pedestal to a closed door on the same ledge. Clearly, they were meant to find a way up there. Too bad he didn’t feel like trying.

“And what if we don’t feel like pandering to your whims?” Alfred felt the same way, apparently.

“Why, then you won’t get your tasty cake!” she sounded scandalized. “Oh. And you’ll be dead.” The voice had taken on a low, threatening tone that made shivers run down Matthew’s spine and the little hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. As he exchanged unnerved glances with Alfred, the voice spoke again.

“However, if you convince me of your dedication to science, I might concede to let you leave the facility with your cake.” Matthew exchanged another glance with his brother, this time one of guarded hope. “Don’t disappoint me. Hop to it, you two.”

“Well,” Alfred said after a moment of awkward silence had passed. “I guess we’d better get started, then.”

“I guess we should,” Matthew conceded tiredly.

“Hey, chin up, Matt.” Alfred nudged him in the ribs with an elbow, grinning in an attempt to raise his spirits. “We’ll think of something, don’t worry. And in the meantime, this could even be fun!”

Alfred’s enthusiasm was infectious, and Matthew felt his mouth start to lift a little despite the circumstances. “So then, Mr. Brightside, why don’t you start by doing something with that gun other than pose with it?” Alfred stuck his tongue out at him and deftly shot two portals at the wall nearest them. One glowed light blue, the other vibrant purple.

“Tada!” Alfred struck a victory pose. Matthew would have commented on it, but he was too interested by the two portals to spare much attention to his brother’s antics.

“Two portals?” he asked, walking over to inspect them more closely. “How did you get your gun to shoot two?”

“You push the switch up for the blue, down for the purple,” Alfred explained. “Or, you know, whatever colors you have. I did a little experimenting while I was waiting for you to get your butt out here. I think you need two portals to go anywhere, though; see?” He gestured at the hole Matthew had jumped out of. Instead of the red portal he’d shot earlier, a yellow portal had taken its place. He could still see the room he’d woken up in through it.

Matthew experimentally aimed the gun at the floor in front of him and nudged the switch from its default neutral position down this time. To his satisfaction, a yellow portal opened up at his feet. For the heck of it, he aimed his portal gun at the ceiling right above the first portal, and pulled the trigger to the right, opening up a red portal. Carefully, he lowered his foot into the yellow portal in front of him, and was unable to keep a grin off his face as he saw it reappear above him. “Okay, that’s cool. Kinda creepy, but cool.”

“I know, right? And you know, I wonder…” Alfred mused, contemplating the portals Matthew had created with a thoughtful look on his face. Matthew knew that look.

“Alfred, wait a minute, think about this-!”

Too late. Alfred jumped into the portal with a joyful cry of “CANONBAAAAAL!” and began to fall from portal to portal at a disquieting pace.

“Wooo, man, this is awesome!” Alfred yelled happily as he built up speed. “You really oughta try this, Matt!”

“I’ll pass for now, thanks,” Matthew muttered wryly. He glanced at the button up on the ledge, and noticed the conspicuous absence of white panels on the ceiling on the other half of the room. He glanced at the floor underneath the ledge, back at Alfred, and back at the ledge again. A small smirk wormed its way onto his lips.

“Hey, Alfred,” he called, aiming his gun at the floor by the ledge. “Get ready!”

“For wha-?” Alfred started, just as Matthew flipped the switch. A red portal opened up right where he’d aimed it, and Alfred came flying out of it a split second later, flailing and yelling all the way. Thankfully, he kept his head enough to land on the ledge, though he wobbled dangerously before finally recovering his balance.

"Woah, Matt, did you see that?” Alfred said giddily once he’d recovered enough to find his tongue. His grin could have blinded a star. “Were we awesome or what? Have I ever told you you’re a genius?”

“You could stand to mention it more,” Matthew conceded, smiling indulgently. “Press the button, would you?”

“You got it.” Alfred depressed the button on the pedestal, and the dots leading to the sign above the door glowed blue. The door slid open with a hiss.

“Well done!” the voice congratulated them happily. “You beat this chamber in record time. Proceed to the next chamber and continue testing.”

“A please would be nice,” Matthew heard Alfred grumble.

“Hello?” Matthew waved, trying to get his attention. He gestured to the floor and ceiling. “Little help, please?”

“Oh! Sorry, Mattie.” Alfred obligingly fired two portals, grinning sheepishly. Matthew took a deep breath and stepped into the blue portal on the floor. The sensation of falling almost took his breath away, but it was oddly exhilarating as well.

“Make sure to use the purple portal next!” he yelled between falls. “I don’t want to end up a smear on the floor!”

“Right, right.” Flying up out of the portal was disorienting for a disquieting couple seconds, but Matthew was able to angle himself so he landed safely on the ledge beside his brother.

“Way to stick the landing, Matt,” Alfred commented approvingly as Matthew regained his balance.

“Thanks,” Matthew replied absently as he regarded the open door warily. “Think she’s telling the truth, Al?” he asked quietly after another couple moments, barely above a whisper.

“Dunno, bro,” Alfred replied, just as quietly. “Either way, though, we _will_ get out of here. Count on it.”

Somewhat comforted, Matthew took a deep breath and followed Alfred into the next chamber.

* * *

Time passed, though neither brother could tell how much. After Matthew almost fell asleep on his feet in front of a turret, and Alfred threatened to pee on the controls to the lift that took them from chamber to chamber, the Voice started periodically providing them with a small Relaxation Cubicle stocked with food and drink, a cot, and facilities. The food was bland and seemed eons old, but when Alfred ventured up the courage to eat a whole protein bar - pulling faces at the taste the entire time – and didn’t keel over immediately, they figured it was safe enough. Sleep was another story, though.

After Matthew’s second nightmare - featuring faceless, white-coated goons with needles for fingers and the corpses of everyone he’d ever cared about floating in vats of bubbling liquid - when they were trying to take shifts sleeping (he was pretty sure Alfred was having nightmares of his own, too), they collectively said “Screw it,” and curled up on the same small cot together like they had when they were kids. It was a tight fit, but they managed, and both of them slept much better. They could never figure out how long she let them sleep, though. There were no clocks to speak of anywhere, and the Voice always told them they’d gotten eight hours of sleep, no matter how exhausted they still felt.

What was most disquieting, though, were the gaps he kept discovering in his memories. While he obviously wasn’t brain dead (however much the Voice loved calling him and Alfred so. Among other things), and he remembered most academic things, like how to read, how to write, basic math and such, Matthew found that he had forgotten an alarming number of things about his life before they’d woken up in Aperture. Some of them were significant, some less so, but no less distressing for all that.

The entirety of his sixth, ninth, and eleventh year _and_ his high school graduation ceremony. What his mother had been wearing for his and Alfred’s sixth birthday. His first time ice skating. The name of his favorite candy. The date that Arthur had had to finally go to the hospital full time. The melodic lilt of Francis’ accent. Who had given him his favorite stuffed polar bear. The color of his best friend Lars’ eyes. What street the local hockey rink was found at. The product of seven times three. What pancakes tasted like (he was particularly upset about that one). All gone. Just like that. And that was only off the top of his head. He was sure that if he delved deeper, he’d find even more things he’d forgotten, but he was too scared to.

Matthew wanted to ask Alfred if he was suffering the same aftereffects of the cryogenic sleep they’d been placed into, but he didn’t want to burden his brother with his problems. Especially since they had much bigger ones to worry about at the moment. Like, whether they would even _survive_ the next test chamber or not…

* * *

“Matthew, look out!” Something knocked him to the floor just as a group of turrets opened fire on him. Alfred landed on top of him, curling protectively over the younger twin as the bullets tore into the wall behind them.

“Alfred,” Matthew wheezed, trying to wriggle out from under him, “not that I don’t appreciate you saving my life, because I do, but could you please get off me? You’re kinda crushing me here.”

“Shh, not so loud!” Alfred hurriedly shushed him, but complied, shooting a portal into the floor right in front of them and then into a wall further ahead for a quick getaway. “Don’t encourage her, man. I swear, if she cracks one more fat joke about me…” he snarled, shimmying forward into the portal, closely followed by Matthew, who was trying desperately to keep the grin off his face. His brother did get so hilariously flustered when she taunted him about his weight, even though both twins weighed almost the same. Residual insecurities from high school when Alfred had been too busy to be as active as he normally was for the first time in his life, which usually mitigated the typical effects of his diet, Matthew supposed.

“You shouldn’t let her get to you, Al,” Matthew commented as they escaped from the turrets. “Why give her the satisfaction?"

“I know, I know,” Alfred replied, scowling at the floor. “It’s stupid. I just… I guess I’m just stressed a little, and she’s not helping my Zen.”

“Alfred, you and Zen are mutually exclusive terms even on the best of days,” Matthew said wryly as he regarded the test chamber with a critical eye. They had ended up back where they started after that little run in with the turrets. The entire chamber seemed to be one large labyrinth, with two separate paths leading off in different directions.

After a bit of experimenting and nearly getting shot three more times, twice by turrets and once by a Thermal Discouragement Beam, they figured out that Alfred needed to be at one end of the room to direct the Thermal Discouragement Beam onto a wall-mounted receptacle, which revealed button on the other end that would dispense a cube to… well, they would figure it out from there.

As Alfred directed the beam using a Weighted Pivot Cube and yelled at him to go for it, Matthew dropped through his yellow portal and sprinted for the button that would dispense the cube for Alfred on the other side of the chamber. Hopefully there would be no nasty surprises hidden over here, but you never knew. Come on, come on, just a little closer…! His hand depressed the button, and Alfred’s faint whoop of triumph made him grin as he prepared to make his way back to the exit to help Alfred solve the last part of the chamber.

“There you are…” The bottom dropped out of Matthew’s stomach at the familiar, childish voice. Sharp, stabbing pain tore through his left shoulder, making his breath catch in his throat as his legs gave out. His head impacted the base of the pedestal, and everything went black.

* * *

“-att? Matthew, please, come on, wake up! Don’t… don’t leave me alone with _her_ , Matt, please!"

“The feeling is mutual, Fatty. But do continue, this is fascinating."

Matthew pried his heavy eyelids open just in time to see Alfred flipping the double bird at the camera mounted in the corner of their Relaxation Cubicle. “I can’t leave you two alone for five minutes,” Matthew croaked, absently wondering why the world kept swimming in and out of focus.

“Mattie!” Matthew found himself caught up in a huge, tight hug, and was suddenly aware that his shoulder hurt. A lot. At his involuntary gasp of pain, Alfred immediately backed off, laying him back down on the cot with a mortified expression. “Sorry! Sorry, Matt, I didn’t mean to, are you okay?”

“Ow…” Matthew muttered, wincing before he glanced up at his brother. “I don’t know, you tell me. What happened?”

“A turret shot you,” Alfred explained. From the look on his face, Matthew suspected that that particular turret was little more than scrap metal now. “You… you nearly bled to death, Matthew. She wouldn’t let me out until I solved the chamber, and… and I almost couldn’t do it.” Alfred’s face crumpled, and he slumped to the ground, out of Matthew’s sight.

The sound of soft sniffling reached his ears, and Matthew immediately pushed himself up on the cot, being careful to keep from jostling his shoulder too badly. Glancing down at it, he winced at the crude, bloodstained bandages made from the sheet that had covered the cot before cautiously sliding off onto the floor beside his brother.

Alfred didn’t even look up as Matthew gently touched him on the arm. “I can’t… I can’t do this, Mattie,” he said softly from the huddled, defensive ball he’d curled himself into. “It was fun at first, you know? Still is. But when I nearly went crazy trying to solve the chamber before you died on me, I realized something. She’s never gonna let us out.” The growing suspicion that had been growing in Matthew’s mind over the past couple days was finally given a voice. Still, he couldn’t let Alfred think that way.

“Hey, you don’t know that,” he retorted. “Maybe you’re just being paranoid. Stop that by the way, that’s my job,” he teased, trying to cheer Alfred up a little.

“Now is not the time, Matt,” Alfred mumbled, and Matthew’s heart sunk. This was more serious than he thought. “And what if I’m right?” He finally lifted his head and looked his brother square in the eye. “What if they keep us here until we die? That contract they had us sign... What if we literally sold ourselves to them or something? They already proved they weren’t above drugging us up against our wills and sticking us in deep freeze for… oh my God, it could have been _years_!” Something about the horrified look on Alfred’s face told Matthew that this was literally the first time that possibility had occurred to him.

“Mattie, Arthur-!” Alfred was unable to finish the thought, his eyes filling with tears.

“I know, Al,” Matthew replied, biting his lip. “It… it occurred to me, too.” Seeing how distraught his brother was getting, Matthew carefully wrapped his arms around him, and Alfred practically melted into them.

“I can’t… I can’t remember what he looked like, Mattie!” Alfred sobbed into his shoulder, clinging as tight as he dared. “I can hear his voice in my head, taste his godawful scones, but I can’t… I can’t even remember what color his hair was! I never told him where we were going, either, because I wanted the money to be a surprise, so what must he have thought… when we never said goodbye or called or came to see him ever again?”

“He would have realized something had happened to us,” Matthew said firmly, nipping that train of thought in the bud. “So you stop thinking that right now. Arthur and Francis and the rest of our friends would know that we aren’t the type to just disappear on them, and they would have been glad that we at least had each other wherever we were. As cliché as that sounds,” he added as an afterthought when Alfred snickered softly. “And Arthur had other people that cared him besides us, Alfred. He wouldn’t have been alone. At the very least, Francis would have stayed with him if they hadn’t killed each other by then. And this is assuming the worst here. We could have been in there for only an hour, for all we know.”

“You’re right,” Alfred sniffed. “I’m sorry. I just…”

“I know,” Matthew said again, resting his cheek atop Alfred’s head and closing his eyes. “I miss him, too.”

After a few moments had passed, Alfred spoke up again. “I’m sorry, Matt.” Matthew knew he was apologizing for something else this time. “This is all my fault. If I had just-”

“Oh, shut _up_ , Alfred,” Matthew interrupted, bopping him lightly on the shoulder. “I could have said no when you asked me to join you. Heck, I could have talked _you_ out of coming at all if I had wanted to, and you know it. I knew we needed the money. I also know how much it hurt you when we had to drop out of college when Arthur got sick. For me, yeah, it was disappointing, don’t get me wrong. Construction work sucks, and nothing will ever convince me otherwise.” He grimaced and continued.

“But if I didn’t have to do that, between the occasional sub job and coaching hockey for the kids, I was actually pretty happy. But you,” He shook his head, “Going to NASA was your dream, Al. It’s all you ever wanted to do since you were five. I know you don’t regret giving that up to help Arthur, but I know that construction work and working at Burger King weren’t doing it for you, either. So when you bounded through the door with that flyer, so eager to get the chance to do something you really loved, even if it was only for awhile… I thought it was worth putting up with some stuffy scientists for awhile to see you really happy again. So if anything, it’s equally my fault we’re in this situation.”

“But-“ Alfred protested weakly.

“No buts,” Matthew said firmly. “And if you keep arguing with me about this, I will smack you again.”

“Fine,” Alfred grumbled into Matthew’s chest. “But only because I’ve seen what you can do with a hockey stick.”

“Damn straight.” Matthew grinned fondly before he remembered something Alfred had said before. “You… you can’t remember things, either?”

“Yeah, it’s- wait,” Alfred leaned back and glared at Matthew. “You too? And you didn’t _say_ anything?”

“I didn’t want to worry you,” Matthew retorted. “We kind of have bigger problems at the moment then a few gaps in our memories, if you haven’t noticed. And hello, Mr. Kettle, I notice you didn’t tell me, either.”

“Alright, alright, point conceded,” Alfred replied, looking uncomfortable. “I just…”

“Yeah, I know.” A slightly awkward silence fell. “So… truce?” Matthew offered finally. “Sorry for being cagey with you.”

“Yeah, same,” Alfred replied, bumping shoulders with him companionably and ruffling his hair. “I’m sorry, too. You up for a game of Twenty Questions then?” he asked, as Matthew batted his hands away, chuckling. “You probably still remember some of the stuff I forgot, and vice versa.”

“Oh, come _on_ , you two!” Both boys stiffened at the Voice’s affronted tone, having briefly forgotten she had been listening in on their conversation the entire time. “That’s not how you resolve conflict! Where’s the yelling? Accusations? Name calling? Rude gestures?” The twins simultaneously flipped her off. “Yes, exactly! Wait…”

* * *

“Alfred, for the last time, _sit down_ before you wear a hole in the floor. I swear, you’re more jittery than Feliciano after drinking three cappuccinos,” Matthew observed exasperatedly from his seat on their cot, watching his brother pace restlessly in the lift room outside their cubicle. “You don’t want her to get annoyed and send you off to test by yourself, do you?”

“No, but I have almost gotten to that point,” Alfred retorted, bouncing impatiently on his boot springs. “It’s as dull as dirt in here!”

“Healing usually isn’t very exciting,” Matthew replied wryly, leaning up against the wall. “Which, may I remind you, is what you’re supposed to be helping me do.” They had barely managed to convince the Voice to not put Matthew back in testing until he had healed somewhat from the bullet wound in his shoulder. Alfred had also made up some nonsense (fully backed up by Matthew) about their Mystical Twin Bond being able to accelerate the process so that she wouldn’t separate them and make him test without Matthew. She’d been skeptical, but she’d eventually bought it. She’d even cooked up an antibiotic injection for Alfred to give his brother that would help prevent him from getting an infection or blood poisoning.

“It would be counterproductive to science to have him die outside of testing,” she’d said pragmatically when she’d given the syringe to Alfred. “Unless of course, you do something infinitesimally stupid, like, oh, I don’t know, try to murder me or something _equally asinine_.” The implied threat to their health was obvious

“Fine,” growled Alfred, slumping down against the wall. He began to fire portals at the opposite wall out of boredom, the bursts of colored energy briefly exploding like fireworks before fizzling out. Matthew shook his head fondly and leaned it back against the wall, sighing softly. If he didn’t let himself think about where they were or about the residual ache in his shoulder, he could almost pretend he was back in their small apartment, listening to Alfred bounce his rubber band ball against the ceiling and every other available flat surface.

“Hey, Matt.” Something in Alfred’s voice made him open his eyes immediately. Alfred was still slumped against the wall, everything in his posture screaming tortured ennui, but the look in his eyes sent an involuntary jolt of adrenaline surging through Matthew’s body. “Wanna join me? Bring some of those godawful bars, too, would you? I’m _starving_.” His eyes flicked to the orange portal gun lying on the floor beside the cot before refocusing back on the wall across from him

After a lifetime of living with Alfred, Matthew could read his body language like an open book. His brother was up to something. He was sure of it. So, despite the sudden feeling of dread growing in the pit of his stomach, he stuffed some of the nutrition bars in his pockets, picked up his portal gun, and trotted over to where Alfred sat slumped against the wall.

Alfred stood up as he approached, grinning broadly at the proffered nutrition bar Matthew wordlessly held out to him. The younger twin raised an eyebrow slightly as he took it. _What are you up to?_

A tiny grin. _You’ll see._ And then Alfred shoved his foot through the wall.

“Let’s blow this joint, Mattie!” Alfred crowed, and dove through the hole he’d just created.

“What? What are you doing? Stop, come back!” the Voice ordered, sounding oddly panicked. Matthew hesitated only a split second longer before diving through the hole himself, despite how loudly his shoulder protested the sudden, strenuous movement.

“C’mon, bro, come on!” Alfred grabbed his shirt, hauled him upright, and grabbed his free hand, taking off down the dark corridor as fast as he could sprint.

“Alfred, what-?“

“I’ll explain later; right now, we have to get out of here!”

“It would be highly unwise for you to take another step,” the Voice observed. “Okay, that was… seventeen steps, and counting. You can’t say I didn’t warn you now.” The facility around them began to shift and move, like a slumbering colossus slowly regaining consciousness.

“Alfred, left!” Matthew hissed, as the wall in front of them disassembled and vanished. Alfred obligingly swung that direction just before they went careening into the void.

“Look, as much as I would like to see how much pain humans can stand before they go insane for this stunt you just pulled, you are the last human test subjects I have. You were doing so well, too. At _least_ give me a month’s worth of testing before you decide to foolishly throw your lives away like this. Tell you what. Just turn around right now, and we can forget this ever happened. How does that sound?”

Matthew clung tighter to Alfred’s hand as continued dodging and weaving through the bowels of the facility. Last two human test subjects? What did that mean? Had all the other volunteers _died_ in those chambers? Had she killed them? What about all those people he had seen in the tanks when he and Alfred had first been woken up? They hadn’t seemed dead, but… Her words about brain damage came back to him, and he nearly tripped from the realization.

“You really should take me up on my offer. Do you really expect to survive down here on your own? And good luck actually finding a way out of my facility, by the way; this place goes on for miles. Any number of horrible things could happen to you before you even get close to the surface. Starvation. Dehydration. Disembowelment. Really, the possibilities are endless.”

“Don’t listen to her, Mattie,” Alfred growled. “We’ll make it. I don’t know _how_ at the moment,” he admitted, ducking into an ajar doorway and pounding up the subsequent flight of stairs. They emerged into a dilapidated room. Half the ceiling had fallen in, and the two could see a huge chasm extending upward, buildings and walkways built into the sides. “But we’ll just have to improvise.” Matthew squinted, having caught sight of a faint white splotch on one of the walls above a walkway hundreds of feet up. Was that…?

He let go of Alfred’s hand, shot a portal at the wall beside them, and then aimed at the blurry rectangle far above them. “Like that, you mean?”

Alfred grinned as the view in the red portal changed to show the other side of the chasm. “You just live for moments like that, don’t you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Matthew answered, a flicker of a smile crossing his face despite the dire situation they’d found themselves in. “You ready?”

Alfred’s eyes met his. And even though they were lost, outgunned, with holes in their memories and a killer AI out for their blood, Matthew suddenly wasn’t afraid anymore. They would be fine, one way or another. And as long as they were together, they always would be. “You know it, bro.”

They jumped.

* * *

_We fell on hard times  
This isn't the ideal  
We're miles from home  
Doing the best that we can  
  
I won't do this without you  
I won't do this without you  
So take heart  
‘Cause you know that you have mine  
  
And it feels like we could last forever  
And I’m not doing this alone  
  
When memories fade  
We've got each other  
When time and confusion collide  
Singin' I hold it all when I hold you  
When friends walk other ways  
We've got each other  
I hold it all when I hold  
I hold it all when I hold you_  
  
~ [“Time and Confusion” by Anberlin](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aPgk_uefDa8)

**Author's Note:**

> Crossposted from DeviantArt. 
> 
> I did have most of the rest of this story planned, but it was getting too long, and since it was supposed to be a drabble originally, I cut it here. But, if it had gone longer, it would have definitely featured both the Oracle Turret (cuz I like her) and Wheatley. Maaaaybe Chell, but that would be kind of a stretch. 
> 
> The chronology of this fic fits into the week in between the end of the Portal 2 Co-Op storyline proper, and the beginning of the Portal 2 Co-Op DLC. How GLaDoS was able to use every single one of those humans in a WEEK is beyond me, unless most of them were too brain damaged to be of any use, so that's the theory I went with. However, since Alfred and Matthew were put into cryogenic storage before GLaDoS became operational, went crazy, and tried to kill everyone, I’m thinking they’re in slightly better shape than most of the other poor souls that were sealed away in the Vault, even though they still have large gaps in their memories because of it. Glados has since used up the few humans that weren’t complete vegetables, so Alfred and Matthew are her last chance to test humans before she has to go back to using Atlas and P-Body again.
> 
> I head-canon Alfred as claustrophobic. He probably wouldn’t have taken kindly to being stuck in a small tank full of liquid without any way to breathe or free himself, and when he panicked, Matthew did too. Just… in a different way. Overprotective younger bros and all that. Aperture scientists don’t really take no for an answer, from what I’ve gathered (*COUGH*Carolineanyone?*COUGH*). Also, in my mind, Matthew is farsighted (can't see things right in front of him), and Alfred is nearsighted (can't see things far away), which is why they have to wear glasses.
> 
> In case it wasn’t obvious in the fic (and it probably wasn’t, since Matthew wasn’t there to see it), the panel Alfred was leaning up against was slightly damaged from age, and didn’t quite fit into place properly. He noticed this when he leaned up against it, and promptly started devising an escape plan. This would have come up if I had kept going, but since I'm not, I decided to mention it here.
> 
> Oh my GOODNESS, was GLaDoS difficult to write. DX I hope I did a halfway decent job with her, but I had a hard time pinpointing how she would speak and act to the twins. I figured that she’d be marginally more civil to them than she is with Chell or Atlas and P-Body, since she needs them to cooperate with her, but that isn’t saying much. 
> 
> Happy North American Bros birthday week, BTW!


End file.
